Back To Us by Rachel Hanna

Author:Rachel Hanna [Hanna, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-20T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 8

It’s so quiet out here. Peach Valley seems like the quietest place on Earth tonight. I haven’t heard a car go by on the road behind my house for at least half an hour, and Dawson hasn’t said anything for the last few minutes, seemingly content to just lie here beside me under the stars.

After eating pizza and chatting about the last couple of decades, minus his military service, we decided to lay out a blanket in the backyard and stare up at the stars. There are a couple of feet between us, just for safety.

“Why didn’t you have kids with your ex?” he asks.

“He couldn’t. Low sperm motility.”

“Figures.”

“Dawson, you’re awful!” I say, smacking him on the arm.

“Still, there’s medical technology that could have made it happen, right? Or adoption?”

I sigh. “Yeah. I suppose so. It just never felt like the right time. And then our time as a couple was up.”

“And you ended up with a daughter anyway,” he says.

“Yes, I certainly did. And she’s a handful.”

“Okay, your turn,” he says. We’ve been taking turns asking each other questions for the last hour.

“The most serious relationship you’ve had as an adult?”

“Wow. That’s a deep question.”

“Too many to choose from?” I ask with a giggle.

“Her name was Serena. We were in Iraq together on my second tour.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say next because I don’t want to trigger him again. “How serious was it?”

“We were making plans to get a place together after our tour was over.”

“What happened?”

He’s silent for a moment. “She was killed by a roadside bomb.”

I can’t breathe. I have no idea what to say. “Oh, Dawson. I’m so sorry…” I roll onto my side and prop up on my elbow. He turns his head and looks at me.

“It’s one of the reasons I can’t talk about my time at war. It’s just very painful.”

Instinctively, I scoot over and lay my head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around me. It’s not a sexual move, but one of two people who have been through some stuff in their lives and just want to comfort each other. I wish there was something I could do to take away his pain, his memories of that time.

“Tell me about Serena.”

He takes in a deep breath. “She was funny. Reminded me a lot of your humor. And she had thick dark hair. Her mother was Italian and her father was Greek, so she would joke about needing a serious waxing when she got back stateside.”

I giggle. “She sounds like she had a great sense of humor.”

“She did. And she was an amazing artist. She sketched a lot while we were there, you know, in our down time. I still have a lot of those sketches.”

“I’d love to see them sometime.”

He pauses for a moment. “I’m sorry I ran out on you the other day… when you asked about Iraq. It’s just hard to talk about, but it felt good to talk about it tonight. I think I needed that,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

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